| And it is the thrash of limbs, in my bed
|
| That keeps me from sleep, if I could sleep
|
| It is the musky scent of their sex
|
| Bodies intertwined, that beckon me
|
| With identical smiles, they said nothing
|
| But unsistely kisses
|
| In the torchlight, in the halflight
|
| I listen to them come
|
| «oh, Marguerite, we’ll have to submit to his will…»
|
| «we'll have to submit…»
|
| Beckoning me, seducing me
|
| Hand in hand, body on body
|
| Moist to the touch
|
| The sweat soaked back that writhes in my hands
|
| The bottomless eyes, cold grey eyes
|
| That stare as I come
|
| And the rasping, ragged breaths and
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| The entanglement of limbs
|
| Trace the bead of perspiration
|
| That hypnotises, mesmerises
|
| I inhale the sweetness of
|
| The innocence that I destroy
|
| My shadow rises and falls
|
| To the dance of the torchlight
|
| Pleasure — delight — domination — damnation |